


Let's figure it out

by Anonymous



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Feels, Dorian doesn't listen enough, Family Drama, Lavellan doesn't talk enough, M/M, but mostly mentioned, many feels (hopefully), not much angst, the Dalish also have demanding families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:09:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23771353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Dorian is invited to attend the war council meeting but it's disrupted, when an unexpected guest shows up at Skyhold and reveals Inquisitor Lavellan's secret. Dorian realises a few things.
Relationships: Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 2
Kudos: 56
Collections: Anonymous





	Let's figure it out

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! This is my first fic I've decided to share! It's written in English, which is not my first language - I'm fluent in it, but speaking and writing stories are two different things. So, if there are any mistakes, please, let me know!  
> Also, there's a part that should be written in Elvhen, but I don't know it well enough, so I actually wrote it in my first language, Polish - if you wanna know, what it means, just pop it into translator!  
> Hope you'll enjoy!

The Inquisition was many surprising things, but the one that came as the biggest shock for Dorian, was his merry drinking band. If someone had told him 5 years ago, he would be regularly drinking southern swill (that they for some reason called ‘wine’) with a huge Qunari, a very loud elf, a dwarf, who was definitely too proud of his chest hair and an elf touched by Andraste herself, he would thought it a cruel joke told on behalf of his father. But it was now his reality and those drinking nights, when they would gather around their favourite table, sing, gossip and play stupid games (that Dorian and Lavellan were almost sure Varric created on the spot to win some money from them) were, and that was really sad to say, the highlights of his weeks. Well, except for, obviously, the secret visits in the Inquisitor’s quarters, but that goes without saying.

But the closer they were to the ball at Winter Palace, the more council meeting Lavellan had to attend and they saw less and less of him. One week he was late, one he got pretty much dragged out of the tavern by Leliana, who needed to immediately speak to him. Once he even came late and had to leave early. Those nights those, who stayed behind in the tavern, wondered what could they possibly be doing, that was so urgent? There were many theories – maybe it wasn’t anything urgent, maybe Josie and Leliana were simply impatient? Maybe those weren’t serious talks about wars and politics, but gossip sessions about all those nobles visiting Skyhold? Or maybe after every meeting, one of the attendees sensually removed their clothing and they could not wait for another show? Their minds raced.

Usually, the meetings around the war table were limited to Cullen, Leliana, Josephine and, of course, Lavellan as the Inquisitor, even though he often complained, that many of the matters discussed could be easily taken care of by his advisors. Sometimes Cassandra, Fiona or Charter joined them, but that’s about it.

This time, however, was different. This time Dorian was invited. Josie approached (or rather, apprehended) him after breakfast, gave him a letter from Maevaris and asked, that he would join them later to discuss the content of the letter. It seemed Mae was in hot water and she needed some help. And Dorian was determined to make sure she receives this help.

On his way to the meeting he spotted Lavellan talking to Fiona in the throne room. He smiled at the elf, who, upon noticing him, quickly finished his conversation with the mage and caught up to Dorian, already heading into the war room.

“First war council, huh?” Lavellan asked, smiling.

“Excited about deflowering me, dear Inquisitor?” Dorian whispered smugly. The elf burst out laughing, gaining them a few curious looks from the nobles roaming the room.

“Sadly, these meetings are nowhere as fun as that would be. Truly, after a few moments of listening to Josie’s report on all those important people who want to or won’t talk to us, you’ll regret being there. And start thinking about all those interesting things we could be doing instead.”

“The Herald of Andraste, His Worship Lord Inquisitor, having dirty thoughts during an important meeting? My, my! Shouldn’t you live in celibacy, sworn only to the Maker?”

“Maybe I should, but _someone_ made sure I wouldn’t.” Lavellan looked at Dorian with the smile the mage already learned to associate with him – one reminiscent of a very pleased with himself cat. It had a great effect on Dorian.

“Are you blaming _me_ for your unseemly behaviour? Scandalous!” he said, but before Lavellan could answer, they entered Josie’s office and she immediately stood up from her desk and rushed to them.

“Ah, there you are! Good, we can begin, Leliana and Cullen are already there. Darling, would you help me with those papers?” she pointed to two wooden boxes she had on her desks, both filled to the brim with papers, letters and notes. Lavellan shot Dorian a “told you” look and grabbed one, as Josie lifted the other and together they made their way into the war room, where an extra chair already waited for Dorian.

Lavellan was absolutely right. The meeting was a long, slow torture and the Tevinter was very impressed with how patient Lavellan was, actually paying attention and answering Josephine’s inquires. He also seemed to know exactly who Josie was talking about at all times, which must’ve been another miracle granted to him by the Maker Himself, as Dorian didn’t recognize even one name he heard that afternoon. After over an hour of going over Josephine’s notes, it was Cullen’s turn. He looked just as bored and annoyed as Dorian felt and went through his part rather quickly, giving them a short report on all their military operations and bases and their needs, which the Inquisitor immediately approved. Leliana took more time but only mentioned a few matters. It made sense, Lavellan knew her long before the Inquisition and spent a lot of time with her now, most likely they discussed current actions of her agents as soon as she learned of them. Then it was Lavellan’s turn to present some things. Eventually, they finally got to Maevaris.

“Dorian, could you tell us, what did magister Tilani write in her letter?” Leliana asked. Dorian looked at her smiling.

“Dear Leliana, are you still pretending you do not read every letter that arrives in Skyhold? Truly, unnecessary, I assure you we all know about this little habit of yours!”

Leliana allowed herself to smirk, just a bit.

“Oh, I know exactly, what she wrote, but the rest do not.”

“Very well. It seems her little ‘resistance’ has drawn support, just as she hoped it would. Thing is, that support comes in the form of idealistic magisters with no real power... while the ones who might see her group as a threat are the true heavy hitters. Reading between the lines, I'd say Maevaris is in more hot water than she lets on. She's crafty, but she could use more help right about now, or the resistance might die on the vine.”

“I could send some of my templars north. Real templars, who can disrupt magic. They could guard her and I’m sure they’d scare her enemies quite a bit.” Cullen offered. Inquisitor shook his head, standing up from his seat and looking at the map laid out on the table, a small crease on his forehead as he thought. It was certainly entertaining to watch him at work, the usual smug smirk now replaced by a serious facade.

“No, that won’t do. It would make her look weak, scared of an assassination attempt. Also, getting your templars to Tevinter would take weeks and we need to act faster.” Dorian said.

“Leliana, we have people in Tevinter, right?” Lavellan asked, to which Nightingale nodded. “Then we could have someone skilled kill one of Maevaris’ opponent. Eliminate one of her enemies, and the rest will believe she can strike at them with impunity–”

“And scared for their lives, they will back off.” The Tevinter finished, nodding. “Yes, this seems like a good plan.”

“Are you sure we should begin our operations in the North with such a drastic move?” Josie questioned. “The Inquisition is now a force to be reckoned with, even there. We could just openly declare our support for the resistance.”

“I’m not sure if that would help, or put Mae in even more danger,” Dorian wondered, twirling his mustache. “they recognize Inquisition’s growing power, but they look at us with scorn, due to, you know… The whole ‘Herald of Andraste’ thing. I’m for the assassination scenario – a good murder is always noticed and appreciated in my homeland.”

“Good, then it’s decided. Leliana, please contact your Tevinter contacts as soon as possible.” Lavellan announced. Dorian stood up.

“Lovely! Then I won’t be necessary any longer, yes?”

“Sadly, you will. Sit back down.” Lavellan said. The mage looked at him disappointed and slightly offended that his lover would put him through any more of this torture. Lavellan sent him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. You see, we have to talk about the ball in Winter Palace and we thought you an expert on matters of high society meetings.”

Dorian hummed, as he sat back down, now slightly intrigued.

“Yes, I’m definitely an expert. But, if we’re discussing the Winter Palace, why isn’t Vivienne here?” he questioned. Lavellan snorted.

“Oh, Vivienne said she would not waste time on long council meetings. She wants me to come to her with ideas and options, from which she’ll choose ‘the most appropriate option’. So, I need options and Josie, Leliana and I have already gotten heated over topics I want your opinion on. So, we need… an arbiter.”

“Well, now we’re talking! Very well, my dear Herald, what important matters should I guide you in?”

Except for Lavellan and the advisors, only three members of the Inquisitor’s Inner Circle could attend – who should those three people be?

“Vivienne, obviously.” Lavellan announced. “She knows the court like no one else. Dorian, too. Who should be the third one?”

“You… You want to take me, a scary Vint, bloodmage for sure, to the Imperial Court of Orlais?” Dorian asked, stunned.

“Well, I’m a Dalish elf, they’re already going to be shocked, why not just rub it in a bit more by bringing the most outrageous company I can?” Lavellan smirked. “Also… I’ll simply feel much better if you’ll be there with me.”

Now, that was just a bit too much for Dorian. _Quickly, fight back feelings with humour!_ Something inside of him screamed, as Lavellan looked at him softly.

“Want someone to draw away attention from you? Understandable. Sure, I’ll go. Free food and wine, what could go wrong? Then, who should be the third person we take?”

Eventually, they settled on Cassandra, but only due to Josie’s insistence (Lavellan had wanted to take Bull, who would carry in Varric and Sera in a bag – sadly, Josephine did not approve of such plan).

What should they wear and in what colours? Josephine proposed a red and blue suit, which Dorian, Lavellan and Leliana vetoed immediately, announcing they’d rather die then be seen in such a monstrosity. After much deliberation and even a few heated exchanges, they settled on simply letting Vivienne and her stylist decide, as they could simply not reach a consensus.

After the conclusion to this part of the talks, Lavellan stood up.

“I can’t. I need a break. My head’s about to implode. Please, could we maybe go for a walk for a while? We can talk there, I just have to get out of this room, I need air.” He certainly looked a bit pale and tired, so they all agreed and headed for the courtyard in front of the gate.

“Could we then talk about some lighter things, my lord? For example, the titles we shall be announced by. Leliana and Cullen already told me, how about yours?” Josephine asked, as they were slowly descending down the stone stairs. Lavellan scrunched his nose.

“Oh, of course, I forgot about that. Can’t we just use the Inquisitor?”

“We need to add the proper way to adress you. How about ‘His Worship Lord Inquisitor Lavellan’?” Josie wondered. “They’ll add some other title based on your accomplishments, I’m sure.”

“Sure, if that’s good enough, that works for me.”

“OI, LAVELLAN!” came a voice from behind them. Upon hearing this, his face flashed with panic and the universal “I’m fucked” feeling.

“ _Oh no_ ” he whispered, as he turned around. There, in the gates to the castle, two guards were holding back a small, female elf. She was thin and short, with dark skin, a green vallaslin and extremely long, red hair, that she had braided into a complex hairstyle, made up of braids, colourful strings and feathers, that run down to her calves. She was wearing a simple, but nice armour, had a mage’s staf attached to her back. She must’ve dropped her sack, which now lied at her feet, as she struggled against the guards, screaming at them in Elvhen and looking at Lavellan with murder in her eyes.

Cullen pulled out his sword, while Leliana and Dorian tensed, ready to strike down the girl, if she tried to attack the Inquisitor. But then Lavellan put his hand on Cullen wrist, shaking his head and screaming to the guards, to let her through and not hurt her. Everyone looked at him shocked.

“YOU!” the girl roared as soon, as she was set free. She launched at him and then came to a sudden stop just before Lavellan.

And then she punched him. She punched him in the face, so hard he doubled over, gasping and grasping at his face. Cullen started to move towards them, when Lavellan raised his hand.

“No… Ah, I deserved that one...” He mumbled, straightening up. The girl launched into a tirade as soon as he looked at her.

“ _TY DRANIU! TY SKURWIELU! CZY TY WIESZ, JAK BARDZO SIĘ O CIEBIE MARTWILIŚMY!? TWOJA BABCIA I JA MYŚLAŁYŚMY, ŻE CIĘ ZNOWU STRACIŁYŚMY! TY DURNIU! BARANIE JEDEN! JAK MOGŁEŚ!? MY SIĘ MARTWIMY, A TY TU CO_!?”

Dorian didn’t understand a word she said, but he got the feeling that she was really pissed off. Yes, Dorian was really good at reading people.

Lavellan stood there, a sheepish look in his eyes as he massaged the growing bruise on his face. After a few more moments of the girl screaming at him, he reached out to her and tried to touch her arm.

"Venn…" he whispered, but she shook off his hand and took a step back.

" _NIE! NIE PRÓBUJ MNIE PODEJŚĆ, NIE UDA CI SIĘ! JESTEM NA CIEBIE TAKA ZŁA! SZŁAM TU PRAWIE MIESIĄC TYLKO PO TO, ŻEBY CI NAKOPAĆ, DRANIU_!" She kept screaming and once again tried to punch Lavellan but this time he ducked and grabbed her wrist.

" _Venn_!" he said, this time more sternly but not angrily or threateningly. The girl looked into his eyes, took a deep breath as if she was about to start screaming again and then she just… broke down and started crying, knees buckling under her. Lavellan grabbed her as she began to fall, hugged her tightly and stroked her hair gently as she cried into his chest. It didn’t last long – she quickly gathered herself and pulled back, away from Lavellan, wiping tears of her face. Lavellan still wouldn't let go of her arm.

"I… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have made a scene..." she said, now in perfect Common, but with an accent, the same one Lavellan spoke with, just heavier.

"It's fine. I know… I understand. I'm sorry, I really am. I didn’t plan any of this." Lavellan whispered.

The girl nodded and wiped her face yet again, then looked around. There weren't many people in the courtyard at this hour, but those who were, were staring at her and Lavellan. That included Cullen, Josephine, Leliana and Dorian, still standing around the Inquisitor.

"Josie, could you arrange for a room for Venn? She'll need some rest once we talk." Lavellan asked, looking at the ambassador, who was still stunned and only nodded after a moment.

"Yes, of course, my lord."

"Oh, so this is Venn!" Leliana whispered, assessing the girl. "That explains a lot."

"You've heard of me?"

"Yes, Lavellan mentioned you a few times.” Leliana nodded, smiling lightly.

"Not to me," Dorian said, looking around. "maybe some introductions are in order, dear Herald?" he raised his eyebrows at Lavellan, who nodded.

"Yes, of course. Sorry. Venn," He turned to the girl and began pointing at the people he talked about "this is Leliana, Sister Nightingale. This is Inquisition's ambassador, lady Josephine Montilyet. This is commander of our forces, Cullen Rutherford. And this is my friend, Dorian Pavus. Everyone" Now he turned to his advisors, but looked straight at Dorian. "This is Yevenna Lavellan, my best friend from my clan and the First to our Keeper."

"Also the girl who saved your ass multiple times. Who worried about you, while you apparently laid here on silks and ate grapes while getting called 'lord'. Your future wife with whom you’ll make lots of tiny, baby elves, remember?” Venn added, looking at Lavellan, a shadow of smile on her still wet from tears face. Lavellan flinched as she mentioned the word 'wife' and so did Dorian. The mage felt a sting of jealousy and disappointment. _Of course. What else were you expecting, Dorian? It always goes like that._

His eyes met those of the elf. They shined of… guilt? Maybe even a bit of fear? Lavellan was looking directly at Dorian but his advisors stared at him. Only Leliana’s eyes darted from him to Dorian and Venn, as if waiting for one of them to do something dramatic. She probably expected this of Dorian. But he just clenched his fists until knuckles went white and tried to act as if he didn’t care. He _shouldn’t_ care. He and Lavellan never truly discussed what was between them, he had no claims towards the Inquisitor. Though learning he was ‘the other man’ was never nice and it stung, now, when it came from Lavellan, even more than ever before.

“I’d say this war council meeting has ended. Venn and I should talk. Josie, would you please take care of a room for her? Venn, come on, we’ll talk in my room. Apologies.” Lavellan said, then grabbed his friend’s elbow and started leading her into the castle.

The rest of them stood silently for a while after they left and finally, after a few moments, Cullen spoke up.

“Well, this was eventful… I’ll go take care of the supplies for our bases.” he mumbled the last words, already quickly walking away. Dorian was almost sure he noticed a bit of pink on commander’s cheeks – he never felt comfortable talking about things that didn’t involve battles, armies and soldiers.

Josie left just after him, wondering out loud which room should Venn stay in. Dorian was left in the courtyard with Leliana, who watched him.

“Don’t jump to conclusions.” she said. Dorian turned to her, taken aback.

“Excuse me?” he sputtered, already getting angry. The last thing he needed right now was the spy sticking her nose in his personal life.

“I said ‘don’t jump to conclusions’.” She answered, her face cold. “Judging by your reaction to the words ‘future wife’, Lavellan hasn’t told you yet, how things looked like for him in his clan. Just let him explain everything”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he said, waiving his hand dismissively. Her brows furrowed.

“Dorian. We’ve already established I know about everything that happens in Skyhold. So I know what you’re thinking and you’re wrong. Not everything is about you!” She was getting angrier by the second, her face still stone cold except for furrowed brows. Her voice was becoming lower and quieter as she lectured him. “How much do you even know of the Dalish? How much do you know of Lavellan’ life before he came to the Conclave? Maybe educate yourself a bit on those topics before playing a victim, blaming everyone around you and getting drunk in the tavern, as you wallow in self-pity and self-induced misery!” She finished and turned around, walking away before he could’ve had a chance to speak. Dorian was certainly confused. Leliana knew LLavellan years before the Conclave and this whole Inquisition business so she probably knew what she was talking about. But still, that didn’t explain why Lavellan never mentioned a fiancee, especially that he clearly cared about the girl.

Dorian’s wounded pride stopped him from walking straight to the tavern to get drunk (he didn’t want to admit that Leliana so quickly figured out his plan). Confused and kinda dazed, he actually went to the library and approached Fiona with a question whether she could help him find all the books they had on the Dalish. Thankfully, Leliana wasn’t upstairs to hear that. A small victory for him.

Fiona was actually very helpful and helped him discern credible books, that spoke of the Dalish in more scientific way, from Southern Chantry’s propaganda that painted them as children-eating demons. Dorian took all those books to his room and spent the rest of the day, and a good part of the night, reading and making notes.

Around 2 hours after midnight someone knocked on his doors. Dorian’s heart immediately began to race, as he suspected who was outside. He quickly tidied up the mess of notes and books on his desk and opened the door.

There he was. Lavellan. He looked tired – his already pale, freckled face was even lighter, blonde, shoulder-length hair looked as if he’s been running his hands through them a lot and there were even hints of purple bags under his beautiful, golden-green eyes. He also ditched his usual purple coat and pink shirt for a simple pair of black, high-wasted trousers and a big, white shirt with puffy sleeves, in which he could easily hide his left hand, neatly bandagedhand, so as to not show off the Mark.

He looked at Dorian wearily, as if wondering, whether Dorian will shut the door in his face or just straight up punch him, as Venn did earlier.

Pavus thought he was going to be angry, when he sees Lavellan, he even thought of some passive-aggressive things he could say, when the elf would inevitably show up to beg forgiveness (or whatever he was going to do). But as soon as he saw his tired lover on the doorstep, expecting to, yet again, get abused by a human, all those feelings melted away. He stepped back and let Lavellan into the room, then after he closed the door, took the elf’s face in his hands and without a word, pressed a long kiss to his forehead.

He seemed to be surprised at first, then just melted into the touch, grasping at Dorian’s shirt and leaning into him. They stood like that for a while, until Lavellan finally pulled back a bit, looking up at Dorian who still cradled his face.

“I thought I was going to get screamed at.” he whispered, smiling lightly. Dorian shook his head.

“I know. You seemed… stressed out at that doorstep. And, Maker, I really don’t want you to be scared of coming to me.” he sighed, rubbing Lavellan’ cheek with his thumb. The elf looked away.

“You had every reason to be mad.”

“Did I? I thought so for a moment, but then Leliana screamed at me and suddenly, I wasn’t so sure.”

“She did what?” Lavellan looked at him again, surprised. Dorian chuckled and sat down at the bed, patting space next to him, where Lavellan joined him.

“You see, Leliana reminded me that I’m… kind of an ignorant, when it comes to Dalish customs and… well, elves at large. You, Solas and Sera are, after all, the only elves I’ve ever spent long periods of time with and talked to – actually talked, not… gave orders to.” the last phrase came out quieter, as embarrassment rushed over him. Lavellan didn’t look bothered, so Dorian continued.

“And we’ve never actually spoke too much about your people. Not even about your clan, your family. The only thing I recall you mentioning, was your grandmother. So, with Leliana’s guidance, I decided to… not jump to conclusion. And listen to what you have to say about… Venn.”

Lavellan looked at Dorian with such fondness and gratitude, that the mage couldn’t stand it but at the same time, loved it. Then the elf spoke up:

“I’ll have to thank Leliana.” he laughed but then his face became serious. “Dorian, I know Venn mentioned being… _my future wife_ , but we’re not engaged or anything. We never dated, not even slept together. She’s my best friend, that’s all. She said that, because we’re expected to get married one day and it became kind of a joke between us. Also, if we keep talking about getting married, no one tries to set us up with other people. I mentioned that once, remember? When we went to the Breach after coming back from Redcliffe.”

 _Oh._ Now Dorian recalled a toast he made, when they were climbing up that mountain, drinking some weird Avvar swill and trying to forget the dark future. _To making our own decisions and to mountain tops in the middle of the night!_ It came after Lavellan mentioned his overbearing grandmother, who, just as Dorian’s father, kept making decisions for him.

“So, Venn is just… A decision of your grandma’s?” he asked. Lavellan nodded.

“Precisely.”

“Can she… Tell you who to marry?” Dorian questioned. Lavellan sighed and ran his hand through his hair, causing it to fall onto his face. Dorian reached out and gently brushed it behind the elf’s pointed ear.

“It’s… complicated. Usually, people decide about marriage themselves, though such unions have to be approved by families of those people and the elders of the clan. Well, in my case, both family and clan’s elder are the same person – my grandmother. She’s our Keeper, which is...”

“I know,” Dorian said and Lavellan looked at him with a raised brow. “I got some books about the Dalish and read up a bit. Keepers are clan leaders, mages, who keep all the knowledge, that should be passed down, yes?”

“Yes… Exactly.” Lavellan answered, now smiling. “You really started reading about Dalish for me?”

“Ah, well...” Dorian felt heat raising up to his face and rubbed his neck. “I only began today.”

“Still,” Lavellan said. “that’s so sweet of you”

Dorian cleared his throat and looked away.

“So, your grandmother?” he urged the elf.

“Right. Well, Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan, that’s her full name. She’s… kind of a big deal among the Dalish, not just my clan. When she was young, she went on adventures, hoping to find some forgotten Elvhen knowledge. And she actually did. Then she returned to clan Lavellan, took over as a Keeper and then started using what she found – some spells, some recipes, some stories. And she led clan Lavellan well, like, really well. We began to trade with humans, so they saw us as less of danger. She knew how to deal with other clans and make everyone happy, which can be difficult, as clans differ a lot. Made our clan very open and tolerant – city elves, or those who were for some reason unwelcome in their own clans, all were invited, if they just wanted to learn and embrace the culture. Truly, clan Lavellan is well-regarded among the Dalish. But she also… likes to boss people around. Which is hardly a bad thing when you’re the leader of a clan, but… It gets more problematic, when it’s in family. My m–” here he stopped for a moment, looking away, then took a deep breath. “My mom… Married an _acceptable_ guy, became the clan’s First, had a child – she did everything the way my grandmother wanted her to. But then she… she died… and, well, my dad…” once again Lavellan stopped his story for a moment, as if bracing himself for the next part. “He… was no longer there as well. And… Well, I haven’t told you that… I didn’t spent all of my life with the clan. If that’s fine with you, I’d rather not talk about this today...”

He looked up at Dorian, who nodded and put his hand on top of Lavellan’, squeezing lightly. The elf visibly relaxed a bit, turning his hand to interlace their fingers together as he continued.

“Well, so… Once I returned – it was a shock for her. She was very happy, obviously, but also with me, came back her dream – of building a kind of dynasty of her descendants leading the clan she build up. But it wasn’t so easy, because I was not what she hoped for. I wasn’t like my mom – she was a very kind, sweet lady, who wouldn’t say no to her mother. I was a loud smart-ass, who spent time among humans and wasn’t so immersed in the Dalish culture, had to relearn a lot of things. I wasn’t even a mage! And that meant I could not become the Keeper, as she wanted me to. I just wasn’t right. Didn’t fit her plan, her idea of an heir. I knew humans best, so I would often get sent on errands in cities. I also kept in touch with Leliana and… some other people from my past, traded information. I was just on the fence, you know? An elf with a vallaslin in human cities, a guy too close to _shems_ among the Dalish. So she started to look for ways to _settle me down_. Draw me closer to the clan, tie me to it, so I wouldn’t get away and ruin her plan. Marriage seemed like the best option, so she started setting me up on dates, which, by gods, I hated so much. After months of that she came to me and said that since I get along so well with Venn, she’ll make her our First and we need to get married and have mage babies, who will be able to become the clan’s Keeper one day.”

Dorian blinked in shock, unable to comment on that and also not wanting to interrupt Lavellan’ story.

“Yeah. I told her that’s bullshit, we fought and that’s were we left it at. I told Venn, she thought it was ridiculous as well, but pushing her to marry me, as that was ‘a good match’. So, we started to talk about marriage in front of people, to get them off our backs. She would call me _future husband_ , I her _future wife_ and we’d talk about out future gaggle of red-haired babies and our families no longer bothered us, thinking we’d accepted our fate. That’s where that came from. And when it comes to whether my grandmother could do that… Yes. Because if I wanted to marry someone she did not approve, we’d have to find another clan that would take us in. But that would mean angering my grandmother, so probably no one would. And I got stuck there, in this weird situation. I was glad, when Leliana contacted me and told me about the Conclave, asked me to come with her as a Dalish representative. I got a chance to get away from it and rethink all of that, decide if I’d go back and be more like my mom or maybe just… Leave my clan once again, for good this time. And then the Temple blew up and the rest is history.”

The room was silent, as Dorian took it all in and processed. He was sure of two things – one, Lavellan really led a much harder life than Dorian ever suspected, and two, Leliana was a bitch and, as always, was right. Damn it. He sighed, rubbing his eyes with his free hand, as he still held onto Lavellan’ hand with the other.

“I’m sorry, Lavellan. I’m sorry for not paying attention and for making all of this, between us… about me. It was _my_ father, _my_ medallion, _my_ feelings, _my_ pace. I should’ve… I don’t know. Listened more. Asked more. I’m sorry.”

“And” he added after a moment, quieter, now looking the elf in the eyes “I’m sorry for not trusting you there for a moment. For thinking that you could’ve not been honest with me. You had my back ever since Redcliffe and you vouched for me even before that, trusted me from the beginning. I’m sorry I doubted you even for a moment, you deserve better than that. And I… I want to be the man you deserve. So, if you’ll want me to, I’ll do what I can to be better. For you.”

Lavellan reach out and lightly touched Dorian’s cheek. Then he leaned forward and kissed him. It was a slow, delicate kiss that only lasted a moment but said so much. When they broke apart, Lavellan looked at Dorian, their foreheads pressed together and whispered:

“It’s fine. If I felt mistreated, I would’ve broken this off long ago. I know it’s not that easy for you to trust someone, to feel comfortable in a relationship. I’m glad you took your time and figured it all out for yourself. I care about you, Dorian. So, let’s work on that, huh? I’ll try to be more open. You’ll try to listen more. And we’ll figure it out together, as we always do.”

 _I care about you. Let’s figure it out together_. Maker, Dorian always wanted to hear those words and here they were, coming from a beautiful elf, who held him delicately but surely and wasn’t letting go anytime soon. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, so he leaned forward, put his head on Lavellan’s shoulder and hugged him tightly, with his face tucked into his lover’s neck.

They just sat like that for some time and when Dorian finally felt, that he wouldn’t start crying as soon as he opened his mouth, he nodded and relieved and overjoyed whispered:

“Let’s figure it out together, _amatus._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Any feedback is always welcome!  
> 


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